


breathe

by VesperNexus



Category: The Spy Who Came in from the Cold - John Le Carré
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesperNexus/pseuds/VesperNexus
Summary: “Jens-” Fiedler’s blood dripped from between his teeth and he coughed violently, eyes sliding to the shredded flesh between a translucently pale chin and shoulder. “Jens-” A sob crawled through his throat and his hands trembled, fingers gliding shakily to cup the bloody mess of his throat, to try and – and – and -Once, he goes too far.





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> VAMP AU which will be part of a series because s o m e o n e has a terrible influence on me.

Leamas stumbled heavily, arm almost slipping off of Fiedler’s shoulder. The younger man huffed an exhausted breath and readjusted his grip around the agent’s waist, his palm flat against the hard muscle.

“Almost there, Alec-” Fiedler’s voice was strained, steps unbalanced beneath his companion’s weight as he manoeuvred them to the bed. “There you-”

He unceremoniously deposited him on the mattress. Leamas fell with a resounding thud, and Fiedler crawled on top of the sheets beside him. The man was unresponsive, weighed down by a terrible exhaustion. Fiedler sighed as he quickly undid his tie, nudging it off the bed before unbuttoning his collar.

“Alec,” concern threaded the syllables together. He laid down, his back flat against the mattress, quickly running his fingers across Alec’s torso to draw the older man on top of him. Fiedler didn’t have time to remove his shirt, impelled by a frightening urgency.

Leamas moved slowly, still terribly incoherent, Fiedler doing his best to coax the man’s legs on either side of his thighs. He manoeuvred his hands around Leamas’ waist to steady him, his fingers gently running up the man’s neck and carefully easing his head down to the hollow of his own throat.

“Come on, Alec,” he whispered into his companion’s ear. He lifted his head an inch off the pillow and pressed the thrumming flesh against Leamas’ lips. “You need to feed before you starve.” He couldn’t keep the desperation from colouring his words. There was a beat of silence, and Fiedler didn’t know why he was still trying to talk logic to the man above him.

He pushed down a little harder, and finally, _finally_ , he could feel Alec’s lips parting. It took a second, and he heard fangs sliding from gums before he felt them pierce his throat.

Fiedler jerked suddenly, back arching as Leamas finally began to feed. A wave of intense relief washed over him as the Briton fisted his hands into the bedsheets, fangs burrowing even deeper into his flesh with a renewed intensity. Cold lips trembled on the slop of his neck, suddenly slippery with hot blood. Fiedler forced himself to relax as usual, flattening his palms gently into the arch on Leamas’ back. The vampire’s muscles were so tense beneath his delicate touch, and he pressed his fingers carefully into the ridges of a hard spine to ease the knots. _Oh Alec._

Fiedler’ breathing was becoming more controlled as his body settled into the familiar routine. Leamas barely removed his lips to take a breath, so driven by a terrible and profound hunger. He could not help the twitching of his leg beneath the broad figure, his eyelids fluttering shut. _Breathe, Jens._ The pain in Fiedler’s neck began to dull, a quiet numbness tingling his shoulder. A few minutes must have passed when the exhaustion began to weigh the marrow of his bones.

“Okay,” Fiedler muttered, moving his hands to Leamas’ shoulders. His blood moistened the pillow and he diverted his gaze. They weren’t usually so messy. “Are you – are you okay for now Alec?”

Fiedler ignored the stickiness sprayed against his chin as Leamas lifted his head, long fangs slowly sliding from between the raw layers of flesh. His breath hitched as the holes in his neck began to weep. Fiedler’s body felt terribly heavy, and he let himself sink into the bed as Leamas lifted his head. As much as he wanted to keep going, his command over his own consciousness was beginning to fray.

“Alec?” It was barely above a whisper, and Fiedler startled when hot blood dripped onto his cheek. The vampire did not respond, and Fiedler flinched when strong fingers grasped his jaw and ruthlessly pushed it to the side. The muscles in his neck stretched painfully and he could feel the blood welling quickly from the punctures, a wet flood dampening his skin. “Alec…” he muttered, an innate wariness setting in when the man did not stop.

 _Calm down._ He pressed his palms against those broad shoulders, trying with futility to push Leamas away. Dark spots began to haunt the edges of his vision, his breath quickening. The sheets below him began to grow soggy, sticking to his soiled shirt. Fiedler applied more force. _This isn’t happening_ – “ _Alec.”_

There was a moment of innate tension. Suddenly –

Strong fingers clamped around his wrists, and before he could shudder they were pinned by his head. Leamas’ eyes shone manically in the darkness, two bright bulbs shrouded with the desire of a man too long starved. Fiedler could hear his own heart beating so violently it threatened to fracture his ribcage. He could not draw a breath before the man jerked down violently.

The pain was suffocating. Leamas’ fangs tore into the hollow of his neck brutally, the flesh collapsing like melted wax beneath the sharp bone, sinew splitting violently as blood ruptured from between the layers broken skin.

Breath did not come to him, the agony blindingly intense as Leamas hollowed his cheeks and inhaled the blood from his veins. Fiedler was a trembling mess beneath him, legs kicking spastically into the mattress, back arching so sharply he might have snapped in two. Leamas drank Fiedler’s voice too, hot blood gurgling at the back of his prey’s throat, spilling frantically over the side of his mouth.

His cries fractured like static. Leamas did not notice. He swallowed the blood greedily, burying his tongue into the newly dug tunnel. Prodding the soft walls of flesh, he muffled the vibrations of Fiedler’s vocal chord and dried the wetness with a squelching suck. The blood splattered from the vein like a wet paint brush viciously flicked. Fiedler’s movements became stilted, slow, the beat of his heart stuttering against Leamas’ chest.

Leamas felt the blood dry on his neck, his chin, his cheeks. His hair was damp, nose doused with the intense smell of copper. _Breathebreathebreathe -_

He lifted his lead when the need to inhale overwhelmed him, his fangs tearing out through the fragile skin, sound like the ripping of wet paper.

Th vampire breathed around a mouthful of blood, shuddering hard above Fiedler. His fingers began to ache from where they clasped fragile wrists, the thin bones shifting beneath his terrible grip.

_Breathe._

He forced his upper body to straighten, bending his knees around Fiedler’s narrow hips as he lifted himself off the still figure.

The still figure –

The still –

Oh god.

_Oh god._

_What have I done?_

The delicate tinge of copper wafted into an unbearable stench, watering his eyes. Time was suspended as Leamas began to come to terms with the cold body imprisoned beneath him.

“God-” He released Fiedler’s arms like the contact burned his skin. The German did not move, his head limp on the pillow, the right-side of his face smeared with red. The terrifying holes in his neck wept incessantly, and suddenly the air in the room felt so incredibly dry.

Leamas’ heart ceased to beat as he focused on Fiedler through his blurred vision, those lovely eyes unseeing, shadowed by a mess of tousled hair. The German stared at nothing, mouth lax and red. Leamas had never been so overwhelmed, debilitated. His fingers began to numb, the firm grip of terror wrapped around his throat, throttling him, depriving him of breath, dizzying him until black edges faded into his vision.

“ _Jens-”_ Fiedler’s blood dripped from between his teeth and he coughed violently, eyes sliding to the shredded flesh between a translucently pale chin and shoulder. _“Jens-”_ A sob crawled through his throat and his hands trembled, fingers gliding shakily to cup the bloody mess of his throat, to try and – and – and -

He was so cold. _Jens was_ _so cold - he was -_

_Breathing._

Fiedler was breathing.

He was alive.

Leamas had never moved so quickly in his life.

*

Fiedler hadn’t woken up yet.

Leamas hadn’t moved in hours.

At some point, his body began to mould into the sharp edges of the chair, a tingling numbing his left calf.

The light was weak, Leamas turning his face away from it nonetheless. It was strong enough to illuminate the prone figure limp on the bed, but left enough shadows to ease the vicious pounding behind the hollows of his eyes.

God, Fiedler was so still. If Leamas were not so afraid to touch him, he would have flattened one palm against his chest just to feel it rise and fall. He desperately yearned to press his fingers into the pulse of a bruised wrist, to remind himself Fiedler was still here.

An IV drip was attached to the back of Fiedler’s left hand, needle carefully breaking the skin, secured with tape. The bandages wrapped tenderly around his neck and shoulder seemed to fade, and Leamas could hardly tell where they ended and the dangerously pale skin started. He had done his best to put all the bits and pieces back together, threading the shredded flesh closed with shaky, inexperienced fingers, keeping the hot tears from falling as he struggled with futility to push Fiedler’ blood back into his veins.

The delicious blood which had overwhelmed him into a frenzy had tasted to repulsive on his tongue when he felt that gentle heart stutter against his, when he felt those weak hands push at his shoulders, when he heard the desperation – _Alec._

He hadn’t stopped. _He hadn’t stopped._ Fiedler begged him, feared him, struggled against him, and he hadn’t stopped.

Fiedler had pulled his body along his, pushed his sweet neck up to Leamas’ cold lips with all the trust in the world. _Come on Alec. You need to feed before you starve. There you –_

The concern sewing his words together was so devastating. _Why couldn’t I just stop?_

The purple encircling those fragile wrists seemed to glow in the dim light. Leamas had held Fiedler down and took more from him than he could have given. He had broken every convention – every promise – every –

“Mmm,” Leamas’ eyes snapped to Fiedler’s face. Bruised eyelids began to flutter open slowly, the fingers of his free hand curling against his stomach.

Leamas tensed, hands strangling the arms of the chair. “Jens…” it tumbled from his lips suddenly.

The German took a moment, owlishly blinking at Leamas, whose breath was snatched from his lungs. Fiedler did not move, his eyes flickering down to his prone figure, his breath hitching as memories flooded his mind in devastating flashes. His mouth felt dry.

His lips parted and words struggled to form. _Alec._

“Shhh, don’t speak,” Leamas leaned in a little closer, unable to keep himself from Fiedler. “There stitches on your neck,” his voice was heavy, “I managed to-” sew the flesh together after tearing it apart – “You’re going to be okay.”

There was a long pause as Fiedler absorbed everything, understanding chilling his dark eyes into awareness. And then – he smiled.

He smiled.

Leamas could not move, watch from the corner of his eye as one thin hand slowly shuffled across to the edge of the mattress. With some difficulty, Fiedler turned his palm so it faced the ceiling.

“I-” the tears were back, hot in Leamas’ throat. He was careful when he slotted his strong calloused fingers in that delicate grip. “I’m so sorry.” In sheer inadequacy of the apology was striking.

But Fiedler continued to smile, his lips upturned exhaustedly. _It’s okay,_ he seemed to be saying. _It’s okay._

His eyes fluttered shut. Leamas did not remove his hand, breathing warmth into pale flesh. Fiedler fell back into the throws of exhaustion, and Leamas relaxed into the uncomfortable chair.

He would be there when Fiedler woke again.

 

 


End file.
